Episodic
by Ferdinand with Flowers
Summary: Kcuf you, I'm a lick your tnuc. Lla in a days krow. /Dna my memories are all working against em/ UA


**episode 101: pretty and disgusting**

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><p>And just like that, my eyes open and I'm suddenly aware of who I am and the surroundings around me.<p>

Bedroom, darkness hanging over me and my dark-haired Mamacita. Red and black covers depicting heroic animals battling over nothing are halfway pulled up to my waist, a lump next to me is cocooned in her own covers of pink and purple and everything else that is so pretty and disgusting.

I have the unmistakable urge to pee.

I sigh, and look towards the digital LED clock resting atop the nightstand adjacent to the queen sized bed. Two-O-clock in the morning cutting through the night like an arrow.

Mama-mia. It's fucking early.

Roll over to the edge; shake the red and black blankets off my feet. Shift my position so that I'm sitting on the edge of the bed, chills rolling down my spine as the naked soles of my feet touch the wooden floors.

Goddamit, should've worn socks. Oh well, what's done is done. Just stand up, and start my trek to the bathroom. Incidentally, it's not that far. My little ass shitty apartment ain't that big. It's a two room apartment, one that counts as a living room slash kitchen, and another that acts as smugly as a masterbedroom complete with a bathroom inspired by a Vietnamese sweatshop.

Even though my feet are getting used to the cold floor, my spine still gets a jolt as I open the bathroom door and take my first steps on the tile. Dammit, from the humble cold of the laminate wood to the asskissing of the frigid tile, I should've worn socks.

What's done is done.

Inside, I close the door behind me. The bathroom is small, moonlit light filtering through the venetian blinds of a small window outline a whole ensemble of a bathroom cast; the sink and his twin brother the medicine cabinet, the small and delicate shower that's built into the wall, and everyone's favorite guy, the toilet. It wouldn't be a party without the toilet.

It wouldn't be a party without that smell either. I haven't washed this place up in a couple of days, and the entire faculty smells like piss and day old feces. My nose can't help but twist and bend over backwards even with the window open and cold air blowing in and trying in vain to dispel that pungent smell.

I ignore the light switch, he's the Scrappy of the entourage, and instead come up to the venetian blinds. Pull a knob down and open the shutters to reveal a more detailed look of a window leading outside. Through the shadows and the streetlights, I can see a figure of a guy in a hoodie giving his back to me. Just standing there doing nothing much.

I should be suspicious, to which I have a crushing curiosity more than anything, but I'm not. You gotta learn that in a city like Viridian, minding your own business can save your life.

Whatever. I'm here for something, ain't I?

With moonlight flooding through the shutters, I give my all to the toilet. The floodgates open, and I'm one happy camper. Whistle a happy showtune about koopatroopas marching to their deaths.

And then somewhere a phone starts to ring.

Fuck-a.

I'm rushing it now, shake Luigi Jr. side to side a little, and pull my boxers up. Open the bathroom door open and…

"Hello?" the brown haired beauty answers the phone. She's sticking out of her cocoon, not a caterpillar, not yet a butterfly, as the moonlight emitting from the bathroom illuminates her fair skin.

Her hair is a complete mess as dull and disheveled blue eyes focus on the receiving end of a cheap black phone manufactured in some shitty place like Onett. Or maybe Ostia? I don't know. It's shitty and…

What really matters is that the dumb bitch answered the fucking phone.

She looks from the receiving end of the phone, and locks eyes with me. Awareness sneaks its ways in the back of those two blue orbs she calls eyes.

Lock eyes with her and I snap.

I sprint towards her, and slap the phone out of her hand. Her face contorts into one of rage as she drops the phone to the ground, but otherwise, she makes no sound.

The plastic end of the phone hits the floor with a thud.

I glare at her, and then bend over to pick up the phone.

"Hello?" Adrenaline flowing through my veins as I bring the phone to the side of my face and straighten my back considerably. I'm barely even registering who's on the other end of the line.

"Hello. Uncle Luigi?" a voice, soft spoken and tired, reverberates from the receiving end. I know who it is. Peach's kid, no? Haven't spoken to my brother's wife in what, over a year?

I still keep in touch with the kid, if only because he's my only nephew and Peach won't. Fuckin bitch. What kind of a mother are you?

"Red?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it's me," sounds kinda glad I recognized him.

"It's like, two O clock in the fuckin morning kid, what the hell are you doing calling me in this hour?" my Mamacita huffs and gets herself comfortable on the bed. I turn my back towards her and watch as she brings the covers up to cover her chest. She then crosses those petit arms of hers over a modest bosom as she stares at me.

Ah, she's still naked from our session. I sit down on the edge of the bed as I continue the conversation with my nephew.

"I'm sorry I'm calling at this time of night. It's just," his voice is shaky, wavering. He sounds like he's gonna cry. Ah, my faggid nephew. Always been such a pussy.

"I got into a really bad fight with Toon. Really into it."

A pause. Sniffling. Crying. I wait.

"and uh. We did some stuff. And I'm really tired of it, you know?"

I don't. I don't know this kid's story. On the phone, he sounds shaky, wavery, and I can't begin to understand what he's saying or what he's getting at.

I do know he has a boyfriend. Some guy they call 'Toon'. Hell if I know his real name.

And while we keep in touch, me and my nephew, I hardly know him. It's always simple 'heys' or 'how are yous' when we happen to bump into each other, which is rarely.

It has never been like this, relying on each other with a phone call in the middle of the night.

"What do you want kid," I'm blunt and I want to get this over with. But there's nothing from the other end of the line. Behind me, I hear the shuffling of my Mamacita as she reaches over to the nightstand next to me, opens a drawer and fishes something out.

"Well, uh." She slams the drawer door closed.

"I need a place to stay, and I was thinking. Can you pick me up?" Clink, and I breathe in the aroma of a cig. And get the urge to smoke one myself.

"I have nobody really..." She reaches over and puts, what I guess to be, the lighter on top of the nightstand.

It's my turn to be silent. My Mamacita breathes out cancerous vapors and, I imagine in my head if only to get out of this situation, drops her ashes on my covers. Red's also silent on the other side.

"Yeah, sure kid, you can stay with me," I hear a sigh of relief on the other end, "where do you want to met?"

"You know that diner down by route 16?" His voice is a little bit chipper, just a touch bit relieved. My cold heart picks up, if only a little.

"The Delfino one? That diner by the strip joint?" Ah, sweet memories of the strip joint. Where my brother met his wife. Poor kid doesn't know the true story.

"Uh, yeah," He sounds unsure of himself. All's well. I know that place by heart, I do.

"All right, kid, I'll meet you there."

"Listen Uncle I"

"Kid, when I get there, we can have a fireside chat with coffee and maybe a burger or two, in the mean time wait for me there."

"All right, uncle Luigi, thanks."

"No prob, kid, sit tight until I get there," I open the drawer door. Fish something. Find it, and put the edge of it into my mouth.

"Bye."

"Bye, kid, be safe," I wait for him to hang up, and only when I hear the dial tone do I reach over to the nightstand, put the phone back atop it's pedestal, and take the lighter.

Lighting my cig, I take a drag and go over what just happened. Look back at the cheap LED clock.

Two ten.

Mama-mia. It's fucking early.

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><p>Ten minutes later, I'm dressed and all I need are my car keys and my shoes. Sitting on the edge of the bed with a cigarette hanging limply on my lips, those are precisely what I start to put on.<p>

My Mamacita on the bed has been silent through everything, just puffing her cig and ignoring me like she has the tendency to do.

"Lock up when you leave," I tell her. She grunts as she shifts on my bed.

"How do you know I won't stay?" she has a soft, baritone voice, probably from smoking too much. It's feminine and sexy as hell.

I turn my head over in her direction to get a good look at her. The small of her back is leaning against the fancy fixture that holds the bed together. Her blanket-covered legs are against her chest, as she looks at everything but me. I catch a glimpse of her pretty face as she chews on the end of a cigarette that was wasting away to nothing.

We take a drag at the same time, and blow puffs of smoke in different directions. I look away, and continue to tie my shoes.

"I know you. You won't stay."

As I finish tying my laces, I stand up, giving my back to my Mamacita.

She doesn't say nothing.

Hoping to get a response, I then say something.

"Go back to your green man."

Nothing from Zelda. I shrug as I enter the kitchen slash living room, fumble through the darkness to grab my keys from the kitchen table, and begin to head out.

As I open the door and begin to step out, I hear her voice: sweet baritone feminine. Sexy as hell.

"Fuck you, you cunt."

Had to stop to take it in. Fuck, she got me horny.

I take my first steps out into Viridian city.

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><p>first step of continuity in my stories. hope you enjoy.<p>

disclaimer  
>and<br>concrit greatly appreciated


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